


Boyfriend

by redgoldblue



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 4x04, David's horrible romantic history, Episode Tag, M/M, Sort Of, Stream of Consciousness, episode: 4x04 Girls Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redgoldblue/pseuds/redgoldblue
Summary: The word slips out of David's mouth before he really thinks about it, and brings with it a swarm of memories.





	Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> I read the 4x04 chapter of Mid-Range Denim and got inspired. Fair warning(s): I almost broke my own heart writing this my poor boy's been through so much; it was written mostly in one go on the bus as I drowned in emotion and hasn't really been edited; and related to that point there's a weirdly large amount of extended metaphors about water but that's just the headspace I was in I guess so have fun. I considered changing the formatting and putting it over in Poetic Drabbles in light of the style and word count but decided it was too much effort.

“These mountaineering shoes that my boyfriend is wearing, looking like Oprah on a Thanksgiving day hike, incorrect!”

  
  
_Boyfriend._

  
The first time that someone else called themselves David’s boyfriend, it was only his second relationship.

  
He hadn’t learned to lock himself down yet.

  
And he still remembered the rush of emotion it had brought with it, as the older man had tenderly touched his arm and promised him that this was real, that he didn’t say ‘boyfriend’ with nothing behind it, and David had felt like he was floating, buoyed up by a whirlpool of warmth and hope.

  
The next day he’d caught him making out with his secretary. Once the initial shock and betrayal subsided, he’d gotten honestly sort of offended at the lack of creativity in that.

A childhood of disinterested parents and a younger sister who seemed to seize any opportunity to run thousands of miles away and fling herself into danger had instilled lurking suspicions and emotional barriers; and if he was being real with himself, that was when they started to grow, covering up a powerful need for affection.

 

_Boyfriend._

  
  
The first time someone called him their boyfriend, it was hurled at him in anger from a relationship that had failed the moment it began. He was desperately searching for something he wouldn’t allow himself to have, and she expected more from him than he ever would have been willing to give her anyway, and maybe if they’d just talked to each other from the start they could have been friends. But instead she ended up shouting at him that she had just wanted her _boyfriend_ there, and he had shut down and offered nothing but a raised eyebrow, clenching down on furious words in response, and they imploded in an argument that perfectly mirrored the entire relationship, and he fled to Nicaragua for three months.

 

_Boyfriend._

  
  
The first time he’d called himself someone else’s boyfriend, she’d already been saying it for three weeks, and if he hadn’t been way past feeling any emotions at all in relationships, he’d have clocked on to the fact that the words exited both of their lips in a disinterested monotone. Looking back on it, she’d probably only said it because they’d been dating for a month and it was expected, and he’d definitely only said it because she did and it would seem weird otherwise. And he’d cared more about not having to deal with her asking about it than he had about the fact that saying it felt in some way immeasurably wrong.

 

_Boyfriend._

  
  
All of this spins through his head in the seconds after he finishes his sentence. Right on the heels of it comes the realization that he’s never called someone else his boyfriend, and he’s never been the first one to say it.

 

_Boyfriend._

  
It’s… a loaded term for him. And despite what it probably sounded like to the other two, he’s never consciously thought that through with Patrick, never been aware of applying that label to him - but he can’t deny, now that it’s out there, that it feels undeniably... right. Like a great weight has suddenly been lifted off his shoulders and replaced with warm hands - only this time they’re Patrick’s, and he’s reasonably certain that he’s not going to catch him with his secretary tomorrow. Partly because he doesn’t have a secretary, but more because he trusts him. That realization comes hot on the heels of the last one, and almost knocks him off his feet. The glittering feelings of something finally slotting into place are swamped by a wave of instinctual fear, until Patrick grins at him and says, “Hey, my boyfriend doesn’t like the shoes.” Hearing him repeat it back takes a sledgehammer to the fear, leaving the tiny anxious pieces to dissolve in a sunshiney foam of emotion.

 

_Boyfriend._

 

He smiles awkwardly back, and barely notices as Stevie slips out of the store with her plunger, leaving him alone with his boyfriend.

 


End file.
